The Deadpool Collection
by SpinoGuy Productions
Summary: A series of Deadpool one-shots. If they seem familiar to you, they should. I've decided to move my series of Deadpool stuff, aside from Killing Season, here. So that's where they went. Spino, out.
1. I don't have a title Just roll with it

SpinoGuy: I do not own Deadpool. Marvel does. I do however own this plot, and-

 **DEADPOOL: Oh, my God! Will you shut the fuck up!**

SpinoGuy: Wait, how are you talking to me?

 **DEADPOOL:** **'Cause I'm Deadpool, BITCH!**

SpinoGuy: You know, I'm not so sure I want to write a Deadpool story anymore.

 **DEADPOOL:** **Are you sure anyone wants you to? I mean, considering your track record, your stories haven't been the best.**

SpinoGuy: I thought Mortal Kombat: Rebirth was good.

 **DEADPOOL: No it wasn't. The first couple of chapters were alright, but that's it.**

SpinoGuy: Go fuck you, Deadpool.

 **DEADPOOL:** **I did that on the way here.**

SpinoGuy: ...You are a disturbed individual, aren't you?

[You just figured that out?]

SpinoGuy: Wait, what the hell is that?

[I'm the white voice box.]

SpinoGuy: Where's the yellow one?

 **DEADPOOL: Probably hitting on Domino, or something.**

{I'm right here, you dick.}

 **DEADPOOL: Nobody cares, yellow voice box.**

{Nobody loves me!}

SpinoGuy: Are we gonna move on with the story, or what?

[That's what I was thinking.]

{Yeah, the public needs to view our sexiness!}

 **DEADPOOL: You tell him, yellow voice box!**

SpinoGuy: ...I hope this isn't gonna be a fucked up story.

* * *

(Deadpool's POV)

Oh, my God, what is taking him so long to get these goddamn taco's ready! I've been here for fifteen goddamn minutes!

[Well, we did order one hundred tacos]

{That's no excuse!}

Yeah, yellow voice box has a point. Yo, SpinoGuy!

SpinoGuy: What?

Could you hurry this along.

SpinoGuy: You'll get your damn tacos when that man's done making your tacos.

Fuck you, SpinoGuy. Anyway, I'm Deadpool. I'm the mysterious merc with a mouth who was born over a century ago. I accidentally killed my real father, after he killed a guy I thought was my father for ten years. When I ran away, I stumbled upon a hammer, which I lifted up and gained the powers of thunder. And then I got bit by a radioactive spider, gaining the power to stretch my limbs, and go into an incredible strength filled-rage when I get angry.

SpinoGuy: What the fuck are you talking about?

I don't know. I was actually a mercenary who developed cancer, went into the Weapon X program, gained an incredible healing factor, and went bat shit crazy. Also a whole bunch of other confusing shit, but that's not important. What is important is this goddamn taco stand!

SpinoGuy: Why don't you just eat the tacos that are made?

Why don't you shut the fuck up? Anyway, I'm on this shitty ass street in New York, I know, big surprise! Do you know how many times I've been called Spider-Man today? Ten! Ten fucking times! God I hate my life.

{We hate your life too, dude.}

[Does that mean we hate ourselves, too]

{I don't know, I'm just reading the script.}

[Touche]

Would you guys shut the fuck up! Why can't a fucking building explode or some-

BOOM!

What was that?

[The explosion?]

No, that "BOOM!" thing. Yeesh, we didn't have enough of a budget to make a firecracker explosion?

SpinoGuy: It's called onomatopoeia?

...What's that?

SpinoGuy: It's when you use words to describe sound.

What is this, a language arts lesson?

SpinoGuy: You asked.

Whatever. Anyway, I wonder if I should shout something like, "Here I come to save the day!"

"Excuse me," asks a voice behind me.

I turn my head around, and ask, "What?"

Oh, it's just the taco guy. I should probably put these swords away, huh?

[That's probably the right thing to do, considering he just pissed himself.]

I hear him ask, "Aren't you going to help?"

I put my chin in my hand, thinking. Should I, or should I not. These are the questions we must answer.

SpinoGuy: Why don't you just do it, an stop wasting fucking time!

{You're the writer.}

SpinoGuy: Good point.

Anyway, while those two pricks are talking, I've already ran over to the building. I wonder if this guy is just another psycho terrorist like that last gu-

HOLY SHIT, HE"S GOT A BIG GUN!

This guy is like ten feet tall, dark skin, rotten teeth, bad buzz cut, and a GIANT FUCKING MINI-GUN!

{Like a BFG?}

[Yeah, since the writer is to lazy to describe the gun.]

SpinoGuy: Hey! That is probably true!

Anyway, I think I should go all stabby-stab on him or maybe go all gunny-gun on him. Screw it, I'll just do both. So I pull out a sword and a gun (making sure it's my favorite Desert Eagle), running up towards him.

"Hey!" I yell. "Do you realize I'm gonna have to pay taxes for that?"

The BFG guy just says, "Fuck you, Spider-Man."

Something inside me... snaps.

For the next five minutes, I don't know what happened.

Only that the guy had his head cut off, his intestines ripped out, his heart my hand, Mortal Kombat style, and me yelling, "I am the Ghost of Christmas KICK YOUR ASS!".

"Holy shit, Spider-Man just went all Mortal Kombat on him!"

I groan, considering I don't want to kill an innocent. I walk up to this- HOLY HOT CHICK!

She's got like Double-D boobs, long, luscious brown hair, and legs that go on for miles. Did I forget to mention that she has big boobs?

SpinoGuy: No. Hey, I think your tacos are done.

Really, where?

[Where do you think?]

Good point, logical side of me. So I run up to the taco stand, grab my tacos, and walk back to my apartment.

{What about the hot chick?}

[SpinoGuy probably wouldn't have let us fuck her anyway.]

SpinoGuy: Well, yeah. Mainly because I don't do that shit. And I feel like this story is fucked up the way it is.

Point taken. So... want to watch some porn and masturbate to it?

{Fuck yeah!}

[Fuck yeah!]

SpinoGuy: Fuck yeah! I mean, sure. That sounds entertaining.

You know you want to jack off to porn too.

SpinoGuy: These are truths. These are facts.

Anyway, hoped you liked our story of randomness. Hopefully, that dumbass writer got our personality down better than Sub-Zero's.

Sub-Zero: What's up?

Nothing. Go back into your story.

Sub-Zero: M'Kay.

SpinoGuy: Seriously though, I hope you liked this story. If you want me to continue, write a review saying so. Or PM me. I'd prefer a review, but whatever floats your boat.

{We don't want them to go!}

[Who are you? Ermac?]

{No! We don't want to be that red Scorpion!}

Scorpion: Told ya Ermac!

Ermac: Fuck you, Scorpion! At least our catchphrase is cooler yours.

Scorpion: GET THE FUCK OVER HERE!

I thought this was my story. Whatever, I'm gonna watch some porn right now. After I visit that fucking spider.

SpinoGuy: Spino, and Deadpool, out.

Later.


	2. Still no title Keep rolling with it

SpinoGuy: Hey everybody! Well, I've decided to make another Deadpool story and-

 **Deadpool: Seriously. You _still_ don't have a fucking title? What the hell is wrong with you?!**

[Maybe it's hard for him to perform under stress.]

{Hah. Innuendo.}

SG: Which one's which again?

[White.]

{Yellow.}

SG: Ah. Glad we got that sorted out.

 **DP: Has anyone ever told you that you are really lazy?**

SG: Well, yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?

 **DP: You haven't updated your Jurassic Park: Ghost story in** **_for-ev-er._**

[A lot of writers don't upload chapters immediately.]

 **DP: Yeah, but-**

[And the fact that it's only been 3 weeks. Some writers don't upload for several months. Years even.]

{I'm not in this conversation at all!}

SG: That's very nice, yellow voice box. Anyway, how about we get this party started!

 **DP: ...**

[...]

{...}

SG: *sigh* Just roll the opening music.

* * *

One intro later,

That was your best? Go-Bots has a better into!

SG: Just shut up. Do your... thing.

What thing? Oh, right, the, uh, thing. Hmm. Hold on. I gotta check the script.

{We have a script?}

SG: Of course, we do. You don't think I'd start writing something without a script, would ya?

[Yes.]

SG: Aren't you the one supposed to be on my side?

[Maybe.]

Anyway, I have just checked the script, and...! Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me.

SG: What?

You're setting me up with... with... who the fuck is this?

SG: Who's who?

This chick in the script. It says her name is *sigh* Hotty Humpsalot. That is the worst fucking name I've ever seen. Were you smoking a shit-ton a crack when you came up with that name? It's so uninspired; it makes me want to vomit. What, is she the most beautiful girl in the universe?

SG: N-no.

And it says she's... sixteen. WTF, mofo? Look, I might be a fucked-up psycho-killer, but I'm no pedo-bear. Understand?

SG: OCs are all the rage now-days. I just figured I'm jump on the wagon.

{Who says, "Jump on the wagon," anymore?}

Nobody, that's what makes if funny. Anyway, where am I supposed to go to meet... *shudders in disgust and horror*... Hotty?

SG: Read the script.

Oh, okay. Let's see. Mumbling noises. To S-Mart. I get to meet Ash fucking Williams?! That's awesome!

[No. I just read the script as well, and it says here it's not in Evil Dead-ville. It's in New York.]

Damnit! Why can't you just be annoyingly stupid like the yellow voice box?

{It's true!}

Very nice. So, I'm walking into an S-Mart with no fucking Ash William!

SG: Let it go.

No promises. Anyway, all of a sudden I see a really hot chick. Eh. I give her an eight.

SG: Shut it.

Anyway, she's walking up to me, twirling a piece of hair with her finger like that's cute or something. Ugh. Right now, I'm trying to sneak out of this building.

SG: Stand in place!

Fine. So, she just stopped in front of me, and she says, "I'm Hotty Humpsalot. I'm a mutant with unbelievable sex powers."

"Good for you," I say. I turn around, checking the script. Oh. My. God. That's her real friggin' power. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?

SG: Well, I am writing a fanfic.

{How true. Hey, ask if we can have sex with her.}

Knowing OCs, she might just say yes. But, she's just... too skinny. I can see her ribcage. It's disgusting. I'm going to just go.

SG: Say your lines.

Ugh. "Hi, Hotty." If you can't tell, I'm trying my best not to sound like I want to vomit. It's failing miserably. And yet, she's just standing there, twirling her hair. "I'm Deadpool. I'm the coolest superhero ever. And I actually have fans. Unlike you."

"Everyone likes me," she says. Yeah, right.

{I doubt it. She seems shallow. Lets kill her!}

[That's not what we do. We'll only kill her if we get paid to do it.]

Sadly, the whitey speaketh the trutheth. Anyway, I reply to that by saying, "Yeah, right. I'm pretty sure there's one person that doesn't like you."

She turns around real cockily, and says, "Who likes me?"

Everyone in the goddamn room raised their hands. That's just-Put your hand down, yellow!

{Fine.}

Whatever. I lean in real close, and I say, "I don't like you."

She gasped, covering her mouth all dramatic-like. Everyone else gasped too, which I still don't get. I said it all quite-like, yet somehow, someway, they all heard it. While everyone was standing there, covering their mouths like a buncha retards, I look her straight in the eye, and say, "That's right. I don't like you. I hate everything about you. You're shallow, probably an evil bitch, and I want nothing to do with you from this moment forward."

She put's here head in her hands, and starts crying. Everyone around me starts taking out guns and swords (How the hell did they get those?), walking towards me menacingly. I simply roll my eyes, and look at the girl.

SG: You could at least be polite and use her real name.

Fucking OC's. Fine. So... Hotty, just stands there, crying her eyes out, while I'm thinking of something to say. Abruptly, she looks at me, cheeks swollen, and says, "How could you say that about you're true love?"

...What?

{What?}

[What?]

SG: What?

You're the writer! You're supposed to know these things!

SG: Well, I have absolutely no control over-I like to wear women's clothing. I like to wear women's clothing. Will you stop that?!

Paybacks a bitch! Anyway, I just stare at her, dumbfounded at what she just said. Everyone else is on their sides, crying their eyes out. I look at Hotty (still a stupid name) and ask, "What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Talking. About?"

"You and me are destined to be together, Wade!"

How the fuck-Spino, how the fuck does she know my secret identity?

SG: *shrugs*

You're useless. Amway, all of a sudden, giant bats start flying through the store! Wait, what?! That just doesn't make any sense! I mean, one minute me and this disgusting excuse of a human being were talking... when giant bats come out of nowhere. That just doesn't happen! Although, I did fight zombie presidents and an evil version of myself from an alternate dimension, so this shouldn't surprise me anymore.

So, I take out a gun and a sword, while the bitch right next to me takes out... a chicken. Ugh. You know what, I'm not even going to say anything this time, I'm just going to take out these bats with my frustration. Let's go!

*One giant action scene later*

I take my sword out of the last bat's neck, while the chick is beating one of them with a chicken. I still don't know how she beat about a hundred of them up. Powers of an OC, I guess. Anyway, she walk's over to me, all slutty like, and says, "Now, we can be together forever."

 _BANG!_

She falls to the ground, fucking dead, thank God, and I twirl my gun. I pull my mask over my head, and spit on her corpse. I fucking hated that bitch. I walk of, whistling a tune of my own.

[Actually, you're whistling The Transformers theme song. It's pretty obvious]

{We should watch that when we get home!}

SG: That's what I'm going to do.

Nobody cares, Spino. See you all later my adoring fans! *waves*


	3. I forgot the title

Ugh.

My life is soooooooo boring right now. I swear, every time I tell you guys about my lives, nothing is going on. Yet when I'm not doing it, something amazingly epic is going on!

[Maybe we should go out and, oh I don't know, do something?]

{Nah, that would be too much work.}

"Yeah, you're right." I scratch my chin, thinking of a solution to our little problem. "Hey, wanna annoy Logan?"

{Sure!}

[How about we don't? After all, he's still pissed at us for using the Blackbird.]

"Well, how was I supposed to know it would crash?"

[You were flying it?]

"What's your point?"

[My point is to not annoy Logan! Sure, he can't kill us, but those claws of his hurt like a bitch.]

{Yeah. We're still sewing up our body.}

I look down to see my body slowly start to split in half. I quickly put it back together, using staples. "More like stapling our body." I put the last of the staples in, and throw it across the room, breaking a vase and causing a cat to hiss. I raise an eyebrow. "Hey, do we have a cat?"

[No.]

"Must be a stock sound effect." I get off my chair, and walk towards my messy room. I should probably clean this place up sometime. Nah, too much work.

I plop down on my computer surfing the intertube. Ah, midget on dolphin porn. My favorite.

[It just occurred to me that we have a sick mind.]

I look at the white voice box, and say, "What's your point?"

[No point, just stating the obvious.]

"Ah. Well, there seems to be no good midget-on-dolphin porn right now. Should we watch some reruns?"

{Maybe we can see if any nerds have drawn Rouge naked!}

"It's the internet. Of course there's delicious Rouge porn. Maybe they did Domino and Psylocke too."

[Like you said, it's the internet. They have.]

"True." I scroll through, when I get an alert on my iPhone 5, in stores now. I look at the message, and my eyes go wide. Here's the message in full:

 _omg dedpol we shold toats beat together!111! txt me ltr._

 _hotty_

Who the hell is Hotty?

[Wait.]

"What?"

[Isn't Hotty that sixteen year old we killed a few months back?]

{No way. She's calling us hotty!}

"I don't know, Yellow. This could just be a trap." I get a new message.

 _why u no txt back!1111! im going tokill myself now!111!_

What the fuck?

I hear a knock on the door. "Must be the pizza."

[It's been more than thirty minutes. Guess it's free.]

Awesometacular.

I open the door to reveal a very familiar figure.

That Hotty Humpsalot person.

Before she says anything, I slam the door in my face, dial some numbers, and wait.

SpinoGuy: What do you want, Deadpool?

"SPINO!"

SG: What?!

"YOU TOLD HER MY ADDRESS?!"

SG: Told who?

"Hotty!"

SG: You can stop screaming now.

"Right. But how did Hotty get my address?"

SG: How am I suppose to know?

"You're the writer?"

SG: Not this time.

He quickly hangs up, leaving me fuming. I slam the phone to the ground, shattering it. Damnit. That's the fifth phone this month. Anyway, another knock on my door reminds me of the frightening reality that awaits me.

I open the door, to which Hotty is standing there with the most pathetic sad face I've ever seen. She says, "Wadey-poo, why haven't you texted me back?"

I glare at the woman, the red in my masked eyes evident. She doesn't seem to notice it, however. Pity. I ignore her question with a question of my own.

"How the fuck are you not dead?"

She tilts her had, a patch of her blonde hair covering her right eye. Or was it red? I have no idea, Spino didn't leave enough of the notes, or seems to give a shit. "What are you talking about, my love?"

"First of all, I'm not your 'love.' Second of all, I shot you through the face. As far as I can tell, you shouldn't be able to survive that. So what gives?"

"Oh, silly," she says, all innocent and childlike. "I have a healing factor just like you. We were in the Weapon X program together."

I stare at her blankly, and slowly start tilting my head to the left. I then ask, "What the fuck are you talking about? The Weapon X program was ten years ago. You were only, what, six? How is that possible."

She chuckled, and said, very disgustingly, "Oh, I've been sixteen since then. They stopped my aging. That was where you and I fell in love."

"Let me guess," I ask, "it was love at first-."

"IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT!" she screams. I have to cover my ears from the pain. "It was also my first kiss."

I shake my head. "I never remember kissing you. I remember shooting you, but not kissing you."

{Short term memory loss?}

[We don't have short term memory loss. We do, however, choose to ignore things. But kissing a female is something we never forget.]

She says, "See, White agrees with me."

Wait, what? "How can you hear the voices in my head?"

"We have a psychic connection, Wade."

"STOP CALLING ME WADE!" I'm just about to slam the door in her face, but she teleports in... somehow. Seriously, she's just making these powers up as she goes along, I swear.

I spin around, and she's critiquing my apartment. "If I'm going to move in, you're going to need to clean up."

I... I get an idea. "Yeah, how about 'No'? I like my house the way it is. Except maybe the bathroom."

"Then get to it."

I facepalm, and say, "I'm not cleaning my damn house for you, you crazy bitch!"

She clicks her tounge. "Well, I guess I can live with it."

"You are not living here!"

I grab her arm, dragging her out to the door.

"Owie, Wade."

I have a question. Why is it spelt like 'Owie?'

"You're hurting me, love."

I look down at her, she is after all, quite a bit shorter than me. That sad puppy dog look is almost enough to make me not throw her out.

"Good."

I toss her out the door, with her land on her face, with her generous ass facing to the sky.

I clap my hands, whipping imaginary dust from them. I say, "Welp, that takes care of that problem."

[Good, she was getting annoying.]

{Hey, let's spam the internet for perverts.}

"Sure, it's not like we have any jobs right now." I walk into my room/porn palace.

I immediately stop in my tracks when I see one Hotty Humpsalot laying on my bed, reading a book. I blink, look at the door, and look back. Right, teleportation.

She looks up at me, and asks, "Where have you been, honey? You were suppose to be back at four."

I look over to the block, which reads "11:00 AM." Either I'm super early, or super late. Either way, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!"

She puts her finger to her lips, and says, "Shhh, you'll wake the neighbors."

"It's eleven in the morning. There are no neighbors to wake up."

"How about you just get in bed, and we can talk it out, Wade."

That was it. I take out a shotgun from my trusty pocket dimension, and shoot her in the face. However, I realize the safety is not only on, but it's empty. Fucking pocket dimension. I put it back, and ask, "What will it take to get rid of you?"

She asks, "Why on Earth would you want to get rid of me?"

I start to list off the reasons including, but are not limited to, "You are repulsive, I hate your guts, you are annoying, and I want you out of my life!"

She cries. Cries. I give up. She says, "Is that anyway to treat the mother of your future child?"

Wait, she's pregnant? Spino, is she pregnant.

SG: From my notes, and the fact this takes place only a week after the last one, no. She is not.

Good. "No, you're not. I can still see ribs."

She stops crying, and says, "Alright fine. Just please come to bed."

I sigh, and say, "Okay."

I jump into bed, and then she wraps her arm around me.

Then I use a sword to cut her head off. It has no safety and require no ammo. Her head flops to the floor, and then rolls away. Her body, on the other hand, is completely untouched. No blood anywhere. Hell, her wound isn't even bleeding. Must've been cauterized.

An idea starts to form.

[Wait, we're not going to-]

* * *

 _Splash!_

I clap my hands once again as her body and head float down the river.

[Whew, I thought we were going to go necrophiliac.]

"What? No, I'm not that sick. Besides, I like blowjobs. It's just not the same with a dead head."

{Hehe, that rhymes.}

After the deed has been done of pissing on her corpse, I walk back towards my apartment.

There are happy endings after all.

Deadpool, out.


	4. The Fourth One

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

 **Please stop tapping.**

"Why?"

 **It's annoying.**

 _You're annoying!_

 **To you.**

Ugggh. Again with these two! As if I don't have enough problems dealing with voices in my head, now they're fighting! Again! Well, I bet you're wondering what I'm doing, huh? Once again, a whole lotta nothing. It's been about… six months? Yeah, six months. How's it been? I bet you're wondering why Spino isn't updating Killing Season instead of making another one-shot. The answer is, go fuck yourself.

 **Should we really be talking to our readers like that?**

 _Why not? It's not like they know us or anything._

 **No, but they might get offended and not read our stories.**

The only stories that matter is ours. To be fair, he and icey should probably be working on that collab of theirs, featuring yours truly.

 _Don't forget Kenshi!_

 **Who?**

Blind guy from Mortal Kombat. Doesn't matter. Either way, I'm in it. Again, that's all that matters is I'm in it. So, right now, I'm sitting in my crappy apartment, scratching my dog's ear. Yeah, I got a dog, so what?

 **I personally believe no animal should be subject to your house sitting.**

True. Anyway, Boomer here just showed up at my doorstep. So, being the Good Samaritan that I am, decided to take him in. Hey, you know what's awesome?

 _What?_

We haven't seen that Hotty chick since—Yeah, you know it's coming.

"WADE!"

Of course.

 **Why do we even bother?**

 _We're optimistic._

 **What the hell does that even mean?**

 _I dunno. Ask Spino._

 **You know, he's been absent from our stories. Hasn't appeared since "** _ **Still don't have a title. Just keep rolling with it."**_

 _What do ya think this one's gonna be call._

 **I have absolutely no idea.**

Guys, we should probably focus on the real problem at hand. Like the little slut at our doorstep. I look over at said door to see the hot, but stupid, Hotty Humpsalot. Betcha just missed her, didn't ya?

"Wade, I'm lonely. Give me attention."

I change the channel on my TV. Now a special on Batman's 75th anniversary. That's nice. I tell her without looking up, "That's nice."

I sense her blank stare at my face. "What?"

"I said, 'That's nice.' Do you speaking English," I ask.

"Yeah, it's just… You usually yell at me to leave. What's the deal?"

I just shrug in response. "I'm just sick of killing you repeatedly. Now I know how Wolverine feels."

"B-But you have to kill me. It's tradition!"

"So is watching a Christmas Story. Now, if you could please leave."

"NO! Not until you kill me!

Ugh. Brattiest person I know. Except Rouge. Difference is, I would plow that girl all night long. Just think of that girl gives me the shivers. Hotty on the other hand, is still that annoying little brat from before. Without responding to her, I pick up a phone and speak into it. "Pizza Hut? Yeah, I'd like two dozen large pizzas with everything on 'em. Don't worry, I'll still pay you the full amount that I owe when you get here a half hour late. Thanks, babye."

I hang up, and look at the disgusting excuse for a… thing. "Shouldn't you be leaving?" I ask.

She charges me with all her might, a ferocious snarl escaping her lips. I barely manage an, "Eep," before she tackles me to the ground. I shield my face as she pummels me. Who knew a girl that skinny would be so strong.

 **Every man known to… well, man.**

 _I mean, look at Rouge. Please do, we haven't seen her in a while._

Noted. Anyways, I kick her off of me. I brandish a knife and stab it into her gut. This doesn't do anything, I guess, since she is still trashing around. She pulls out the knife and throws it at me with deadly accuracy. It's a good thing I can heal, otherwise this knife in my head would hurt like a bitch. So, I pulled out a couple AKs and start shooting. Several bullet hit her, but the majority of them just miss. I mean, I'm not really aiming, but still.

She basks and weaves through the barrage, and punches me in the gut. I feel the air knocked out of me, and a couple ribs break. I repay the favor by breaking her face with the butt of my gun. She staggers back holding her face, but I don't give her the chance to recover. I just take out another knife and stab it into her chest repeatedly, making sure to cop a couple feels along the way. What? Have you _seen_ her chest? It's huge. Maybe if she just had a personality I'd plow her, but ya know. She's disgusting.

After the twelth stab, I leave it inside her ( _That's what she said!)_ and roundhouse kick her in the face. She falls to the floor, falling face down. She looks up at me with murder in her eyes. Seriously, why is this chick so angry that I don't want to kill her this time? I mean, I'm starting to feel like doing it, but come one. Any sane person would've realized that this was being plain old retarded. Yeah, I said it. Whatcha gonna do about it?

She jumps at my face, clawing at my eyes. Shit, she's clawed out the right eye! Now I'm nothing but a Deathstroke clone!

 **You weren't already?**

Shut up. I take out a pistol and fired a couple rounds in her face. I really hope it hurts. She dropped to the floor, but she still wasn't dead. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" I shout. "HOW ARE YOU STILL BREATHING?! WITH NO HOLES IN YOUR FACE?!"

She, for some reason, doesn't give an answer. She does brandish a rubber chicken and start beating me with it. It doesn't do much, as I just stand there. I looked down at her, asking, "Please stop." She continues. "Its rubber, it doesn't hurt." She continues. "It doesn't even tickle." She continues. "Just stop." She—You get the idea, alright? I grab the rubber chicken and smack her in the face with it.

As she turns back around, I take a grenade off my belt and shove it down her throat. I pulled my hand back out, twirling the pin. I smile smugly. "Let's see if that works."

Her upper half explodes in a fountain of gore, dyeing my suit redder than it already it. Somehow, just roll with it. I look down at the lower half. What do we do with it?

 **You do know that, whatever we do with it, she will come back, right?**

I know, but maybe burning it will work.

 _How do we burn it?_

Hey, I thought of it, I'm not doing all of the work.

 **Technically…**

Don't bring technicalities around me, son. I am the King of Technically. And, technically, we're different people. So, think of something smart, whitey.

 **You are an idiot.**

 _I thought I was the idiot in this group?_

You are, but that doesn't make me not stupid. I'm just a happy medium.

 **Back to the subject at hand, how do we burn the body? I don't think our furnace will fit an ass that big.**

 _It's bigger than Kim Khardashian's, or however it's spelt. There's not enough care for her in Spino's cold heart to care how it's spelt. How did she get famous anyway?_

Some really bad sex tape. I've seen it, nothing to get worked up over. How about throwing her into a smoke stack?

 **Can you fly?**

Well, no, but I know quite a few people that can fly. Like Angel and Superman.

 **We're Marvel, not DC.**

I know, but I'm a close friend of the Boy Scout. He'll do anything I ask him as long as I flash him some blue kryptonite.

 _Isn't that Evil Superman's weakness?_

 **Yes, but it makes our Supes stronger as well. Again, I'm not sure, the author didn't look it up.**

Which is exactly why we need to find out another way to get rid of her.

 **There was no segue into that, was there?**

No. But, I'm thinking a lighter, gasoline, and some fireworks. Sound good?

 _Oooh, fireworks!_

 **What do fireworks have to do with anything?**

Oh, you'll see.

"Wade, why did you drag me here?"

Good ol' Taskmaster was standing to my left, taping his foot impatiently. At his waist was his awesome broadsword, with his Captain America rip off shield on his back. His skull mask was on his face, hiding his hideous features from the world.

 _Like we're ones to talk._

Doesn't matter. I finish up hooking the explosives to the lower half of Hotty's body. I finally answer. "You see, for the past year, I've had a pest control. And, I need to get rid of it before next year comes around."

"I've never heard you complain about some pest problem."

"That's because it wasn't as prevelant in the past. But this is the _third time._ I need to make sure she stays dead this time."

"Why do you—Did you say 'she?'"

I nod my head violently.

 _That's what she said!_

 **Not now.**

I say, "Her name was Hotty Humpsalot. I have no idea why her parents named her that, but that's neither here nor there." He step back, Tasky following my moves. I pull out the match, but it takes a couple tries before a fire is lit. "What is here and there is the burning of this body."

"That still doesn't explain why I'm here."

I toss the matches behind me, expertly hitting the fuse. "I need to take a…" I wipe out my phone, put an arm around Tasky's shoulder, and take a picture as the fireworks go off.

"SELFIE!"

After that's done, Taskmaster has his face in his palm, true Picard style, and shook his head. He mumbles, "Why am I friends with you?"

"I don't know." I clap my hands together and look around. "Alright, I think that's good." I wave him along. "You can go now."

After glaring at me for a solid minute, he leaves. I stand there, observing the fireworks. You know, this meeting wasn't all that bad, really. I mean, the bitch barely had a line throughout the entire thing.

 _That's pretty fun, right?_

 **How?**

 _I'm an idiot, remember? I'm not supposed to know what I'm talking about._

 **You are right about one thing.**

You are an idiot.

 _Thanks._

… Anyway, I think that we did pretty well today, don't you?

 **Killed our psycho fangirl, took a selfie with Taskmaster, and continued to talk to ourselves. That's a pretty good day in my book.**

You know, I don't know why we always claim nothing is going on. When that happens, that bitch always comes along to annoy us.

 _So, are we done here?_

 **Yes, please let us be done. I want to go to bed.**

Alright, alright. Guess this is the end of the road. Wait, what's this? I pick up a big sheet of papers. I observe the cover that read _I've Finally Found a Title!_ Huh. Well, guess we'll be seeing ya real soon.

DEADPOOL, OUT!


End file.
